


Crossing Annie

by delphia2000



Category: Kung Fu: The Legend Continues
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-16
Updated: 2009-11-16
Packaged: 2017-10-03 01:03:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/delphia2000/pseuds/delphia2000





	Crossing Annie

This was not how Annie Blaisdell intended to start her honeymoon. "I still think we should just forget it and go," Paul said again.

"He's always been dependable. You said it yourself. It's not like him not to show up when he said he would. Besides, you won't forget it. You'll be wondering the whole time we're gone if we don't find out now and I'm not letting this spoil our time together. It's on the way to the airport anyway," Annie insisted.

"I had no idea you could be this stubborn."

She could tell from his tone he was smiling. "Being blind isn't for wimps," she assured him, "and it's too late now. I'm going to be even more stubborn about holding on to your ring, your name and your promise."

"You've got my heart, too, lady."

"I'll hold that even more dearly, love."

They pulled to a stop at the apartment building and Paul came around to open her door for her, taking her by the hand not because of her disability, but as he always did. Paul was a physical person, reaching to touch and hold for any excuse. It was one of the many things that endeared him to her. Strolling hand in hand, they went into the apartment building, up by elevator to the top floor. Paul tapped gently on the door, waiting a minute before rapping again, this time louder. "He's in there," Annie commented.

"You're sure?"

She nodded. "I heard movement. He doesn't have a cat, does he?"

Paul laughed, "God, no. He hates cats."

"Can you open it?"

"I'm not sure we should," Paul mused, "He must have his reasons..."

"There'd better be a damn good one for missing our wedding," Annie threatened, "I'd like to hear it."

Paul sighed and she heard him fumbling with something. Then the door clicked open and she heard the hinges creak quietly as a waft of stale air hit her in the face. Her discriminating sense of smell picked out the distinct aroma of alcohol, tobacco, and a hint of other, less pleasant odors.

"Good God."

She could tell from Paul's tone it wasn't a pretty picture. "He's passed out?"

"On the couch. City dump is a bit more tidy. And smells better than this place."

"You're telling the one who has heightened senses, remember?"

"Sorry, dear heart. Look, why don't you go back to the car and I'll see what I can find out?"

Annie shook her head. "This is women's work. I'll be down in a little while."

She gave him a gentle push and he took her hand again. "Annie, I don't think this is a good idea. He can be..."

Dropping his hand, she reached up to shush him with tender fingers and followed it up with a kiss. "Trust me," she pleaded. "Only a woman could do this to a man like him. Only a woman is going to help him out of it."

She could sense Paul's reluctance but he gave her hand a final squeeze and she heard him walk away. Pulling her fold-up cane from her bag, she felt her way carefully into the room, closing the door gently behind her. It was her sense of smell that led her to the kitchen and she found a glass that reeked of scotch. Nice that he'd been using a glass, she thought as she rinsed it a bit and filled it with cold water. He'd probably eventually switched to swilling it right from the bottle judging from the empty she'd almost tripped over just inside the door.

Feeling her way past furniture, what were probably articles of clothing and several newspapers, she made it to the couch without spilling the water. She used her cane gently to figure out at which end his head lay. The finely honed mercenary skills didn't alarm him of her presence but they still stifled any snoring. Old habits died hard. Keeping those old habits in mind, she located his gun on the floor, just under the edge of the couch and put one foot on it, just in case. Then she upended the entire glass of icy water just about where she figured his face was.

Paul could probably hear the outraged curse that reverberated from wall to wall. As could the neighbors, everyone in the street below and, most likely, half of Canada.

She felt his hand on her foot as he groped for his gun and used her cane to give him a swift poke. "Don't even think about it, Griffin," she ordered.

"Annie?"

His enunciation was crisp. Good, he was probably fairly sober then, she considered. Mercenaries tended to wake up alert. With a gentle, meaningful kick, she shoved the gun further under the couch. She didn't hear him move, so she guessed he'd taken the hint and wasn't going to pick it up again any time soon. Feeling secure, she moved a bit to his left and reached to find a place to sit down next to him. She heard him move something as she sat primly on the edge of the cushion. No telling what condition the couch was in and she wasn't taking chances with her wedding suit. "So, I hope she was worth all this."

His laugh was deep and rumbly with a bitter overtone. "What makes you think it was a she?"

She shrugged. "What else could make you miss your best friend's wedding?"

He groaned. "Oh, God! What day is this? This isn't Friday?"

"It is and will be all day. What's left of it anyway."

"I'm sorry, Annie. Truly. I'm sorry."

"It's inexcusable, Kermit. And it's not like you. So I'd at least like to hear a reason."

He was silent, but she could feel the couch moving slightly. He was probably running his hands through his hair the way Paul said he did when he was upset or deep in thought. He finally spoke. "There's no excuse. No reason. All I can do is apologize."

She took a calculated risk and used her cane with a swift flick of her wrist, hearing a satisfying yelp. "Not good enough."

He complained, "Jesus, Annie, that hurt. You could put an eye out with that thing. Where's Paul anyway?"

"If you think I'm going to sit here and take some whiny, self-pitying lie for an excuse, you have another smack coming, Griffin. I'll take out both your eyes. I might do it anyway if I hear one more curse word out of you. Paul is waiting in the car and there's no way he's going to be able to relax and enjoy our honeymoon if he's got his mind on you and your problems. I'm not sharing him this time, got it? And he's not going to rescue you from me. Now spill your guts and make me believe it. We solve this now."

He sighed loudly. "Fine. But there's no solving anything. It wasn't a she. Not really anyway. Ran into my ex..., well, if this is Friday, then it was a few days ago."

"Sus? I thought she went back to Las Vegas?" Annie asked.

"No, not her. The first ex-Mrs. Griffin. Carolyne. Carolyne Hellstrom now. Saw her and the Major. They were crossing the street..."

His voice drifted out as if he were caught up in the memory. What could have been so bad about seeing her, Annie wondered? He'd spoken of her so casually in the past, as if he just regarded her as another chapter in his life story. She'd had the feeling he was resigned to the failure of their marriage. He'd chosen his way of life over their commitment and hadn't seemed to resent her finding someone to replace him. Someone who didn't get shot at for a living.

"Go on," she urged.

His voice was quiet. Full of regret and sadness. "They had a little boy between them, holding on to his hands. He couldn't have been more than eight. And it's been eight years since she wrote me that Dear John."

"So you think she was seeing him before she divorced you?"

"She probably was. I don't blame her for that. But she could have at least told me she was pregnant with my son."

The coldness of his voice matched the chill that ran up her back. "What makes you so sure..?"

"It was like looking back in time at David when he was that age."

"David? Your brother, right?"

"Oh, yeah. There's no way that kid is his."

She'd been taking risks since she entered the room. She took another. "Yes, he is," she insisted quietly. "As much as I'm Kelly and Carolyn's mother, he's that boy's father. He has been for eight years. The only father that child knows."

If the man's mind was a Cuisenart, it would have been on full blend as he digested that bit of opinion. She could almost hear his mental cry of denial.

"You got a raw deal, Kermit. What she did wasn't very fair to you. But what would you have done if you'd known?"

"I don't know. But I would have liked to have had some choice."

"Well, you didn't get it. So now, what are you going to do? Do you want to disrupt that little boy's life for your own selfish reasons?"

"Could you just hit me with the cane again, Annie? It's a lot softer than your tongue."

"Another crack like that and I will," she assured him. "The truth isn't always soft and pretty. You have to think with your head and not your heart this time, Kermit."

"That's the first time anyone has ever accused me of that," he mumbled.

His voice was somewhat muffled so she reached out to him. He was doubled over and she could tell he had his face buried in his hands. "I'm sorry, but you have to think first instead of just reacting. There's a very special little person whose needs must come before yours. Put yourself in his place, Kermit. How will he feel if you show up and shake up his world? Especially when you leave again for God knows where and how long. What kind of father do you want for him?"

He sat back up and moved away from her touch but she wouldn't let him go. Even if he didn't know it, he needed human contact. "He deserves better than me," he admitted, his voice resigned and still full of heartache. "I'll leave them alone."

"Well, knowing you, that's probably not the full-and-complete-truth, now is it?"

He laughed. "God, I'm so glad Paul married you. You're scary, lady and he's going to get what he's been dishing out for years. I'll keep a distant, very discrete, eye on them, okay? They'll never know. I just want to make sure they're safe."

"That's the Kermit I know," she smiled at him. "It's going to be all right. I know you're miserable right now. A hangover, several guilt trips and I've probably given you a bruise or two. You're a mess, Griffin. But it's all temporary. Honest. It's going to feel better."

She slid an arm around him and pulled him into a real hug. He relaxed a bit and hugged back. "I'm still sorry I missed the wedding," he apologized again. "Who caught the bouquet?"

"Some little guy named Blake, I think. Look, why don't you come down and see Paul for a minute. Just tell him you're sorry and let him see that you're going to be all right so he can enjoy the Bahamas, okay? He doesn't have to know every detail."

She stood up and held out an inviting hand to him.

"Okay, but can I put my pants on first? The neighbors are already torqued at me for the dumpster incident."

Giving him her best shocked looked, she exclaimed, "Kermit Griffin! You mean you've been sitting there half-dressed this whole time? I'll have you know, I'm a respectable married woman now."

"With an attitude like a loaded Uzi and nuclear-powered white cane set permanently on stun."

She could hear him getting into his clothes. "And don't you forget it. We'll be gone for two weeks. That should be enough time for you to get this place cleaned up. I'm expecting a hot meal when we get back. I'm sure I'll be tired of eating out by then. This will be our first stop, so be ready."

"Yes, ma'am."

"And Kermit...it really is going to be all right. I promise."

"Oh, yeah."

End


End file.
